


The Curious Lightness of Being Frankie

by megyal



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-19
Updated: 2008-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frankie floats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curious Lightness of Being Frankie

Gerard was the first one to find out that Frankie wasn't quite touching the surface of the bunk as he was sleeping.

"Frankie."

Frankie murmured and pushed his face into the hand that was resting lightly on his jaw. He shifted and blinked his eyes open, squinting up at Gerard's amazed face, a pale moon in the dim night of the bus.

"Frankie."

"Yeah?"

"Frankie."

" _What_?" He sat up; there was a short, sliding sensation and then he kind of... _thumped_ down on the thin mattress of his bunk, his shoulders making contact before the rest of his body did.

"Right, I was just checking if you were _actually floating_ ," Gerard said mildly and then shuffled off to the tiny bathroom. Frankie put it down to a particularly lucid dream, and went back to sleep.

*

They were all staring at him the next time he stretched awake, a gallery of wide eyes. Gerard was actually the closest, his face practically nose-skimming-nose; Frankie made a muffled sound of surprise and _thumped_ again.

"Owww," he moaned in complaint. "Don't do that, _fuck_."

"How long have you been a floater?" Ray badgered him as he tried to clear a path to the bathroom.

"There's an actual term for that?" Bob was an immovable _fuck_ and Frankie tried to clamber over him, his bladder was going _insane_. Maybe he shouldn't have had so much to drink last night. "I mean, do a lot of people do that?"

"I just made it up." Ray looked prim, a weird expression under his morning hair. Frankie was nearly at the bathroom when Mikey snagged him by the arm.

"I'm going to piss on your foot, Mikey, I swear," Frankie complained loudly as Mikey shined a huge flashlight in his eyes, the same flashlight that rattled around when the bus was in motion. "What the hell are you all talking about?"

"You float," Mikey said and snapped off the flashlight. "You were sleeping, and you looked pretty fucking intense in your dreams and you float. Floated."

Frankie scoffed mightily. "Float? People don't float, I wasn't floating. I need to take a leak."

"It's more like hovering, though," Bob was arguing with Ray. "I mean, it's all about relative distance and floating is higher than hovering, so I would call him a _hoverer_."

"Can I just, I need to pee," Frankie said, hopping in place. "Really, it's funny, I like a joke as much as any other guy, I'd be laughing right now with the rest of you, like this: Ha! Ha! But, um. I just really need to take a leak. And I don't float."

"Hover," Bob muttered.

" _Semantics_ ," Ray hissed back.

"Yeah, so that means you should be touching the floor, right?" Gerard said in that same mild voice Frankie had heard early that morning. In the midst of his bathroom-jig, Frankie looked down at his feet and realized he was kind of bopping in mid-air. He blinked for a moment, seeing his toes wriggle a good inch or so above the floor and then gazed at Gerard, who raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, what would you say about _that_?"

Frankie thought for a minute and then walked over as carefully as he could to the tiny room. It felt like normal walking, only with a bit more cushioning. "Let's just hope that body fluids don't hover, ok?"

"Float," Ray grumbled, and earned himself a glare from Bob.

*

"I think it's compensation," Gerard mused, watching Frankie eat. For some reason, he was more ravenous than usual, twitching as he gobbled down a minor planet made of Pop-tarts. Floating took a lot of energy, apparently. "I mean, you're tiny and you want to be tall. Could be that."

"I actually _like_ being short," Frankie retorted with his mouth full. "Nothing wrong with being short. Short people rule."

"Yeah, in Munchkinland, the short man is king, whatever," Gerard said seriously, but his eyes were amused. "Or, it's because you're a Halloween baby. Shit, this is cool."

"It's kinda tiring," Frankie whined, eyeing Gerard's plate in deep interest. Gerard sighed, pushed over his plate with one hand and nibbled at the nails of the other. Frankie ate out of the two plates at once, and suddenly sighed deeply, wanting to feel cosy. He wasn't _uncomfortable_ , but he could be _more_ comfortable. Frankie subscribed to the ideals of Snug.

"Hey, wait," Gerard muttered, sitting back as Frankie floated up out of his seat and into his lap. "Wow, that is pretty damn convenient."

"I _know_!" Frankie grinned, feeling excited. He wriggled in delight, his legs swinging over the side of Gerard's as he crammed another tart into his mouth. "This is... I'm just getting it into my head that this could be my super-power."

"Hmm." Gerard tapped his fingers on the table, wincing as Frankie jabbed him in the ribs with an excitable elbow. "It's cool, but... I mean, as a super-power, you gotta admit it's not that super."

"You offend me, Way," Frankie mumbled through strawberry filling. He hung onto the edge of the table, trying to prevent himself from floating too far.

"No, no, look at it. How would you stop criminals? Hover the shit out of them? And who would be your nemesis? Mr.... Mr. Ground Man?"

Frankie's eyes shone. "I like that. Mr. Ground Man, Scourge of the Land. I'd be the only one who could stop him, because I'm not earth-bound."

Gerard looked at him with that special brand of exasperated fondness that only Frankie could dredge up. "Okay. So what's your origin story? Every super-hero has an origin-story. You just woke up... floating."

Unable to help himself, Frankie leaned in and gave Gerard an enthusiastic kiss on the side of his mouth.

"Best origin story. Ever," he said with a grin, and wrapped a leg around one of Gerard's as an anchor, humming happily.

*

The floating thing was most excellent for when Frankie needed to escape Bob's clutches while cackling evilly, but he found that since he now knew he floated in his sleep, shutting off his brain for the night was nigh impossible. He would try to drift off, feel a strange sensation in his stomach as if he was very hungry and open his eyes to find himself face to face with the ceiling of his bunk.

He gave up after fifteen minutes and struggled into Gerard's bunk.

"Whazzup, what the shit," Gerard muttered, rolling to the side to make space, an automatic movement even before he opened his eyes to peer at the intruder. "Frankie."

"Yeah. You need to hold me down."

"You are such a needy slut," Gerard said in a grave voice and they both laughed, softly.

"Whatever. I keep bumping my fucking head and you just need to... right, like that, put your hand over me, so I don't drift away. I nearly floated right into the damned lounge."

"Better?" Gerard put a leg over him as well, the material of his pyjamas rubbing along Frankie's skin. He laughed a little more, gathering Frankie close, back to chest. "I can actually _feel_ you repelling gravity, it's insane."

Frankie made a pleased little hum, writing just a little as Gerard's fingers skimmed over his stomach. He felt warm and content, breathing slowly as Gerard's hand slid under his t-shirt and traced light curlicues up his chest.

"Like that, Anti-Gravity?" Gerard whispered in his ear and gave the lobe a lick, for good measure. "This is kind of different, holding you down."

"Yeah?" Frankie whispered back, hoping that Gerard's hand might get the wonderful idea of heading south. "Wait. What's that supposed to mean? I mean, I know I do hyper, but do I climb all over you like some crazy monkey?"

"Well, no, it's not like that--" Gerard started and then thought it out. "Ok, yeah, it's a lot like that. Crazy anti-gravity monkey, that is exactly it. I might sketch that tomorrow."

Frankie thought a little about sulking, but Gerard's hand had caught on and was going down. He couldn't really move, Gerard's leg was heavy on top of his hip and it must have been a little uncomfortable for Gerard to be reaching into his shorts like that, but bless his contortionist skills, he was doing it.

"That's rising, too," Frankie snickered as Gerard's hand closed around him; Gerard stifled his laughter in the back of Frankie's neck, breath stirring the hair there. Frankie bucked into the sure grasp, and then rocked back, grinding his ass against Gerard's crotch. Gerard groaned softly against his skin and tightened his grip ever so slightly, rubbing his thumb across the damp head of Frankie's dick, before stroking down the soft, warm skin.

Frankie grabbed onto the forearm encircling his waist, trying not to moan too loudly as his hips moved and Gerard kept moving his wrist, fast and hard. Gerard said his name in a moan and Frankie covered his mouth with his palm, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook under Gerard's limbs.

"Shit, Frankie," Gerard gasped.

"I know." Frankie stretched like a pleased cat. "You want me to-- _ow_!"

"You _spread_ your _float_." Gerard sounded torn between gleeful and annoyed. "Sexually transmitted hover, fuck." The two of them were trying to push away from the very top of Gerard's bunk, Gerard's hair streaming down towards the bed; Frankie could not stop shaking with laughter, feeling mellow and sweet. He pushed close, using his wide-eyed expression to counter Gerard's suspicious squint.

"Since we're up here," Frankie said innocently, turning his hand and running the flat of his palm down into Gerard's pyjamas. "Just to even things. A little."

Gerard's face cleared up instantly. "Oh, well, in _that_ case," and here he floated close enough, nearly pushing them outside the closed curtains, "start climbing, Monkey-boy."

 **fin**


End file.
